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The Apocalypse Grinder - Chapter 146
🕑 Added 2025-08-04 20:15:46 +0000 UTC<< Chapter 145 | Index | Chapter 147 >>
The second experimental iteration was one of his favourites since the first integration, when he didn’t yet know of his heritage. Not only did he gradually improve his mana cycling until he could split it into five distinct streams per point of mana, improving the stability and duration of his basic mana constructs by four times, but he also obtained another new stat fruit and a much cooler skill.
The stat fruit was called a majestic mango and it boosted his charisma. Again, not the most useful stat, but the fruit itself was absolutely delectable; sweet nectar of the gods. Not only that but the name was awesome.
As for the skill, it was another one of the stat-boosting skills, named ‘rampant resistance.’ As the name suggested, it boosted his resistance by 1 point for every 10 points he already had. Given that his base resistance was already over 10, that meant he gained a free point from the get-go, the same as he did for strength.
Every iteration brought him closer and closer to his goals. Ronan might not have a perfect life, but it was damned exciting. Despite his cheery mood, he still killed himself early, once he’d practiced his sorcery long enough at the start of stage 4. He had more experiments to run.
Now that he had not only mastered the Nine Mouths Delta Mystic Energy Art, but also found a way to apply it to sorcery, Ronan felt he was truly on the edge of grasping magic. Not simply as guided by the system, using a skill with a single thought to blast off a mana bolt or lightning strike, watching as though he was a spectator in his own body, but actually controlling his mana and creating the spell himself.
That was a true accomplishment. Or at least, it was about to be. First he needed to put his money where his mouth was.
The third experimental iteration was his testbed. After slaughtering the goblin warrior with a single application of surging strikes, Ronan earned himself 2 minutes of practice time.
First he established his mana cycle. From a clueless unintegrated human who didn’t even know magic was real, or that it originated in the heart, he had come far. A single point of mana drawn out, cycled around his entire body’s energy channels once, before being split into nine streams of energy.
The conversion wasn’t exactly one-to-nine, but his newly discovered method gave his creations greater stability and staying power. He hoped it would translate to increased power, too, but he had yet to actually develop a working spell.
Now was the time.
Ronan drew out more of his mana, one point at a time, adding it to the stream that flowed through him, until it became a meandering brook, and then a rushing river. As with all pursuits, when seeking mastery, it was best to start with the basics. The first spell he had ever used—the spell that he suspected most mages began with in this vast cosmos—was mana bolt.
Even when he had no idea what sorcery was, Ronan had begun to mess with his system-cast mana bolts. Manipulating their shape, size, and even propulsion speed. All that within the constraints of the system. How far could he go without them?
As he was in an empty clearing, there were no suitable targets. Perhaps I should actually create the bolt before I work on my aim… Expectations adjusted, Ronan held out one of his hands. The regular mana bolt was formed in the hand, before being fired at a target of the caster’s choosing. He would mimic the process.
He wasn’t sure which methods would actually work, so he needed to test them all. To begin with, he literally used every possible method he could come up with.
Visualisation.
Vocalisation.
Physical emulation.
Direct mana manipulation.
Ronan suspected he would look like an arsehole. Or a shonen protagonist. Not much difference between the two, is there? Laughing at his own joke, he directed his cycling mana towards his hand. Round one, here we go.
Lowering his stance, Ronan guided his mana down his arm and towards his outstretched hand. In his mind, he held a firm image of the mana bolt he wanted to create; bullet-shaped, made of compressed mana, and propelled at a designated target by a burst of mana.
He tensed the muscles in his arm and slightly curled his fingers inwards, as though he were physically compressing the mana. He pulled his arm backwards, behind himself, while continuing the process. While doing all this, he continued to guide his actual mana, forming it into the desired shape and structure—whether that was what actually gave life to the spell, he had yet to find out.
In his hand, a gently glowing bullet took form. The shape was off. Too flat. It also felt… flimsy. Even so, it was a partial success, and a damn sight better than a sphere without a purpose.
Mana stopped flowing into the bullet.
A breath passed. Ronan knew he’d reached his limit. It was time to see if he’d made a mana bolt, or a mana dud.
Stomping his front foot down, he whipped his arm forwards. A major league pitcher would be in awe of the form and speed, but to him it was just a means to an end. As his arm straightened out, he released a final burst of mana into his hand. In his mind, he imagined that last explosion propelling the mana bolt towards its target at mach speed. And the cherry on top.
“MANA BOLT!” Ronan roared with the exuberance of a kid who just learned they were having takeaway for dinner.
The explosion of mana that burst out of his hand was more than he bargained for. Ronan was sent flying backwards as the counterforce struck his wrist, shattering the bones in his hand and breaking his radius down the middle.
He smashed into the muddy grass about twenty metres away from where he’d stood. Wincing, he used his working arm to push himself upright and then back onto his feet. Until he leveled up again, he’d lost the use of his right hand. It was time to see if it had been worth it.
Walking over to where he’d launched the bolt from, he marveled at the blackened patch of earth. The grass had been scorched. The moisture in the ground had evaporated, cracked earth breaking underfoot. Squinting, he looked in the direction he’d thrown the bolt.
Ronan could feel the traces of mana in the air, lingering after he’d cast his ‘spell.’ That had to be a good sign.
In the distance he could just about make out another patch of scorched grass. Glancing at the timer he saw there was only about forty seconds left until the next stage began, so he quickened his pace and rushed towards it.
Much further than he’d expected. Much further than the system’s mana bolt travelled. That was a great start.
Unfortunately, the positives stopped there. While Ronan had managed to increase the range, he’d fallen flat in just about every other area. The diameter of the scorched area of ground was nearly three metres. That might have seemed beneficial, but in fact the opposite was true.
He’d attempted to compress his mana to create an explosive burst of mana concentrated into a small area. Success would be a diameter of fifty centimetres at maximum. Not only that, but there were flecks of green among the charred grass, and the mud was still wet to the touch.
Compared to the devastating explosion at the launch site, this was pathetic. I ended up doing more damage to myself than my hypothetical opponent, Ronan joked internally.
And the price for his failure?
37 Mana.
That was seven times the base cost of the system’s mana bolt. Sure, it had greater range and could be used as an effective way to get melee fighters off his back, but that was never his goal.
Even with the long list of catastrophic failures involved in this first test, Ronan couldn’t be happier with the results. For all that had gone wrong, he had still done it. He had cast a true spell without the system’s aid. Sure, its skill had guided his creation, but the actual work was all him.
For the first time since he obtained the class, Ronan felt he’d earned the title of sorcerer. It felt fantastic.
0…
The system pulled him from his test site before he could make further observations, but that was no big deal. Ronan had endless tries to perfect this and he wouldn’t stop until he had a full arsenal of self-created magic at his disposal. With the heritage of the Chronos Clan at his back, he aimed to master everything in this cosmos.
All so that he could tear down the system that had thrown his world into chaos and threatened humanity.
When the three goblins noticed him, the warrior immediately rushed to attack. It found a fist and a maniacal laugh waiting for it. Ronan had no time for these little green shits. There was magic to make.
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